


Epitome of Strength

by Violet_Tempest



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Cousins, Dysfunctional Family, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Family Issues, Gen, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Introspection, M/M, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Protective Kageyama Tobio, Protective Kyoutani Kentarou, Protective Ushijima Wakatoshi, Slow Burn, Volleyball
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:35:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28484736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violet_Tempest/pseuds/Violet_Tempest
Summary: He had been chained to the ground, unable to escape no matter how much thrashed about.He had been drowned in the ocean of judgment and scrutinized by disappointed expectations.What was left of him at the end of his reign were abandonment and suffocation. Surrounded by isolation, he found that he could no longer breathe and his cries for help had fallen on deaf ears.═══════════════❖═══════════════He had trapped himself in a prison, unable to escape from his own making.He was weighed down by watchful eyes and expecting admiration.When he stopped to understand his situation, he realized that the mountain he had built so high had cast a shadow just as deep. He was alone and the agonized screams wrenching from his soul were silent.═══════════════❖═══════════════He was protecting himself.He was better alone.With a somber heart, he resigned himself to hide in the shadows. Any possibility of betrayal would not be able to reach him when no one looked for him.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio & Karasuno Volleyball Club, Kageyama Tobio & Kyoutani Kentarou, Kageyama Tobio & Kyoutani Kentarou & Ushijima Wakatoshi, Kageyama Tobio & Original Character(s), Kageyama Tobio & Ushijima Wakatoshi, Kageyama Tobio/Kindaichi Yuutarou/Kunimi Akira, Kyoutani Kentarou & Aobajousai Volleyball Club, Kyoutani Kentarou & Original Character(s), Kyoutani Kentarou & Ushijima Wakatoshi, Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, Shiratorizawa Academy Volleyball Club & Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Ushijima Wakatoshi & Original Character(s)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 128





	1. BURDEN OF THE CROWN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the burden of the crown was placed on his head and a billowing cape was draped around his shoulders, so too had shackles bound themselves to his ankles and a noose tightened around his neck.

In the reflection of the window, he saw blue eyes staring back at him. 

As a child, he had adored the color of the irises and reveled in the praises of their beauty. He had thought they resembled an ocean, their sapphire hue as enchanting as the beckoning, endless depths of the water. He had loved the way they could reflect the serenity of ebbing tides one moment and the thunderous crash of waves the next.

His eyes were like a treasure to him because they reminded him of a gentle sister and a compassionate grandfather.

Whenever he looked at them now, he resented that reminder.

He resented the emptiness, the raging hopelessness, the crippling loneliness reflected in their depths. The vastness and beauty of the ocean were nowhere to be seen, and what stared back at him instead was a shallow pond barely one foot deep. He hated the constant, incessant _blackness_ of them.

He had hated them since the first whispers of a _King_ began.

When the burden of the crown was placed on his head and a billowing cape was draped around his shoulders, so too had shackles bound themselves to his ankles and a noose tightened around his neck.

He had been chained to the ground, unable to escape no matter how much thrashed about. 

He had been drowned in the ocean of judgment and scrutinized by disappointed expectations. 

What was left of him at the end of his reign were abandonment and suffocation. Surrounded by isolation, he found that he could no longer breathe and his cries for help had fallen on deaf ears. 

The kingdom that he had once ruled crumbled into a wasteland of ash and dust. 

And as thickets of thorns wrapped around and pierced his heart, life bled out of him and his soul drained into _nothingness_.

Tobio could not find it in himself to scream or weep for the loss of majesty.

╔═══════ ೋღ 👑 ღೋ ═══════╗

_ sometimes we forget that the most unbearable people have suffered from the most unbearable pasts _

╚═══════ ೋღ 👑 ღೋ ═══════╝

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote by: Black Butler
> 
> I am incredibly proud of this chapter and the way I described Tobio's internal struggle. It took me a long time to find the right words to use and to figure out how I was going to organize it.
> 
> I loved the way the anime used the King of the Court as a motif for Tobio and always wanted to explore it one of my works. It is so fitting to summarize the struggles Tobio faces as a character. 
> 
> As you guys have probably seen by the relationship tag, I went with the KinKuniKage route. I've always wanted to explore this relationship because there is so much depth to it that many people tend to overlook.
> 
> For the quote, I had a hard time deciding which one to use. I changed the quote about three different times before finally settling on this one. We don't know much about Tobio's past, but from the manga, I assumed that Tobio did not have much of a family presence around him. I think that played a big part in his personality and how he became the King of the Court.
> 
> So the next chapter will be another prologue and will most like be uploaded tomorrow. It will be centered around Wakatoshi, so please look forward to it.


	2. CURSE OF EXPECTATIONS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he was cursed with the weight of expectations on his shoulders and the surge of his reputation, he was forced to hide his weaknesses from any prying eyes. He became a leader whose presence demanded fear and respect.

He built himself a mountain so high that no one could see the shadows on the other side.

When he was younger, he remembered the pure joy and exhilaration at the wondrous caress of victory. Rained with compliments and attention, whispers of awe and envy, he felt pride echoing through his heart and satisfaction coursing through his blood. It drove him to become better and better, to strive for heights unimaginable for mortals.

He valued the touch of triumph like a treasure because it was a reminder of encouraging hugs and loving smiles.

He wondered when that very treasure became a burden.

Oppressed by expectations and burdened by judgment, victory became a matter of course, and anything less was unacceptable. Gone was the happiness of childhood, replaced by indisputable conviction and dull content. Winning became nothing more than a _duty_.

Soon enough, the title of _Champion_ became synonymous with his name.

When he was cursed with the weight of expectations on his shoulders and the surge of his reputation, he was forced to hide his weaknesses from any prying eyes. He became a leader whose presence demanded fear and respect.

He had trapped himself in a prison, unable to escape from his own making.

He was weighed down by watchful eyes and expecting admiration.

When he stopped to understand his situation, he realized that the mountain he had built so high had cast a shadow just as deep. He was alone and the agonized screams wrenching from his soul were silent.

The lands hidden by mountains became buried upon blankets and blankets of snow.

Walls of iron constructed themselves around his heart until no one could even dream of reaching it, and he found himself simply _existing_.

Wakatoshi could no longer cry out with his throat scratched raw.

╔═══════ ೋღ ⛰️ ღೋ ═══════╗

_i’m just here, existing at the surface of the water, not quite drowning but not quite able to breathe_

╚═══════ ೋღ ⛰️ ღೋ ═══════╝

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote by: Jessica Sorensen.
> 
> Wakatoshi was the hardest of the three for me to write because of how little he appears in both the anime and manga. However, I do like the direction I intend to go in with him and am very excited to explore this them I chose. 
> 
> I went with the motif of a mountain because of the anime opening and think it matches with Wakatoshi as a character. They seem so unsurmountable that people often forget that they can erode as well. I think that, with the way Wakatoshi was portrayed in the Shiratorizawa match, that a mountain describes him perfectly.
> 
> We don't know much about Wakatoshi's personality because of how little he shows up in the manga and anime, but I would have to assume that there are huge expectations on him. I can't imagine that those expectations wouldn't have an impact, especially on a high schooler.
> 
> Next will be the prologue for Kentarou and I will be uploading that tomorrow.


	3. TRAGEDY OF ISOLATION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tragedy of isolation had befallen him and he did care to escape it. He surrendered to the crushing tides of judgment and steeled himself against everyone. He was living in a world with only himself and it was incredibly lonesome.

It was a wonder why he chose isolation when everyone he met hid their claws and fangs behind a mask of kindness and smiles.

He remembered that, as a child, he had believed that every compliment and every smile directed his way were genuine and sincere. Their gentleness and compassion moved him deeply, he basked in the warmth that settled on his heart every time. 

He was encouraged to return goodness with his own and had made it a point to treat people with the same benevolence bestowed upon him.

That was before he realized that humanity was a mask for manipulation and deceit.

It was not long before he discovered that smiles were hidden judgment and kindness was hidden insults. Everything he had experienced up until that point had been nothing but lies for those people to gain what they desired. With a somber heart, he knew that it had all been at _his expense_.

He had been given the name of a _Lone Wolf_ when he found that loneliness was better than being deceived.

The tragedy of isolation had befallen him and he did care to escape it. He surrendered to the crushing tides of judgment and steeled himself against everyone. He was living in a world with only himself and it was incredibly lonesome.

He was protecting himself.

He was better alone.

With a somber heart, he resigned himself to hide in the shadows. Any possibility of _betrayal_ would not be able to reach him when no one looked for him.

Kentarou could no longer care.

╔═══════ ೋღ 🐺 ღೋ ═══════╗

_ let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. it’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them. _

╚═══════ ೋღ 🐺 ღೋ ═══════╝

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote by: Jodi Picoult
> 
> I'm going to be honest here: Kentarou's quote at the end of this chapter was my favorite one out of the three so far. I think it matches perfectly with how I want to set up Kentarou as a character in this story, as well as encompass the theme I want to explore with his characterization.
> 
> I want to explore more of his past because Kentarou's is similar to Tobio's. The fact that their personalities are so alike is a testament, I think, to what being misunderstood can do to a person.
> 
> Next chapter will be uploaded some time next week. I want this story to be very thorough and detailed so the updates will take longer than my other story.


	4. EPISODE 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a clear, spring day that welcomed him home. However, Tobio could not help the gloomy atmosphere settling over him—upon remembering how he left his home country in the first place, the elation of returning was dampened considerably by a sense of dread and melancholy—as he stepped out of the plane and into the terminal building.

**MARCH 27, 2012___10:53 AM___SENDAI AIRPORT___NATORI, MIYAGI**

A cool breeze welcomed his return to Japan, carrying along with it the delicate scent of rain from the previous night’s downpour and the perfume of blooming cherry blossoms. It was nearly blinding how bright the sun shined, rolling clouds doing little to hide its brilliance, and skies of the brightest blue stretched limitlessly beyond the horizon.

It was a clear, spring day that welcomed him home. However, Tobio could not help the gloomy atmosphere settling over him—upon remembering how he left his home country in the first place, the elation of returning was dampened considerably by a sense of dread and melancholy—as he stepped out of the plane and into the terminal building.

He was met by an airline representative, a woman with a slender build and a neatly tied bun, who guided him through the passport check and airport security. She took him to the luggage claim, where he retrieved a single suitcase and proceeded to take him through a gate.

A man awaited him at the end of it all. Dressed in a crisp black suit and tie, leather shoes adorning his feet, Aki Shishigami stood with a straight posture and an expression as stoic as it always was. Black hair slicked back into a pompadour style, onyx eyes pinned on him the moment he came into view.

With quick and sure strides, the attendant was in front of him in less than a minute, a hand taking his suitcase from him. “Welcome home, bocchan,” he greeted, bowing at the waist and a hand on his chest. “I’ve been anticipating your arrival.”

“Happy to be back,” Tobio returned plainly.

“You seem healthier,” was all the man said before opening the door of the car for him to enter.

He winced at the mention of health, recalling how he had refused to eat a bite of food six months prior. It had gone on for three weeks before his grandmother interfered and it had left him little more than skin and bones.

“The dietician will be happy to hear,” he stated as he sat down at the passenger’s seat and buckled in his seatbelt.

He had spent the six months abroad regaining all the muscle and meat he had lost during his weeks of starvation. At the insistence of his grandmother, he had been forced to allow a dietitian to prepare and monitor his meals. 

It had been a steady process, but he eventually managed to achieve his original weight and then some more. He even gained more muscle than he previously had. 

A much, _much_ better improvement than how he had been before leaving.

“Shall we return to the main house?” the attendant asked as he eased into the driver seat. “Or is there somewhere you would like to visit first?”

He thought of the main house with its barren hallways and echoing silence. He thought of the looming walls, which seemed to taunt him with the threat of closing in on him, and the tatami mats, which were always clean even though there was a single servant to be seen. 

And he decided that—no, he would not like to return to the main house.

“Would you drive me to the cemetery, Aki-san?” he requested, staring out the window. “Stop by a flower shop on the way as well.”

* * *

**MARCH 27, 2012___11:47 AM___KOMYOJI TEMPLE___SENDAI, MIYAGI**

A bouquet in hand, he looked upon his grandfather’s gravestone with both fondness and sorrow enveloping his heart. 

Kneeling on the ground, he placed flowers on either side of the tombstones and lit an incense stick, watching as the smoke drifted along with the wind. He let his finger caress the letters engraved onto the side spelling out his grandfather’s name and allowed himself to read the epitaph:

_Beloved husband, father, grandfather._

It was a short, simple, concise message, but it had summarized the entirety of Kazuyo Kageyama’s life—He did not think there was anyone his family loved more than his grandfather, the death of whom had shattered all of their hearts to pieces.

“You must have waited a long time, ojii-san,” he whispered, the words barely audible over the rustling of leaves and whistling of the wind. 

Regret and sorrow overwhelmed him at that moment, bringing forth a wave of tears that burned his eyes. Memories of his grandfather came surging back, racking his entire body with sobs. Apologies bubbled on his tongue as he touched his forehead to the grave.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, voice shaking uncontrollably. He was so sorry for everything that occurred in the aftermath of his grandfather’s death. “I am _so_ sorry.”

He was sorry for not attending the funeral, so deep in denial that he refused to acknowledge the truth. He was sorry for the words like knives he had flung, so wrapped in grief that he could not see that others were mourning as well. He was sorry for his anger, lashing out at people who deserved none of it. Most of all, he was sorry for dishonoring the memory of his grandfather, who would have been so disappointed to witness... _everything_.

“I am sorry, ojii-san,” he repeated. “I am so, _so_ sorry.”

Having instructed Aki-san to wait for him by the gates of the temple, he was the only one in the cemetery. No one else was present at this time of day, so there was no one to hear his pleas for forgiveness. Only the winds and trees bore witness to his remorse.

It ached to admit that he would never hear the elders loving words or feel his gentle, reassuring touches. It ached to admit that he would never again see the warm smiles or share his kind embrace. It ached to admit the truth—That his grandfather was no longer alive.

Sniffling, he raised his head from the grave, wiping away tears with the back of his hand. He committed the sight of his grandfather’s name engraved on the tombstone to his memory. 

His grandfather was dead. Tobio had to accept the fact—Had to stop aggrieving others because of it.

“I’ll become someone you proud to call your grandson, ojii-san,” he swore. His grandfather had given him so much. It was the least he could do for him. “I promise I’ll be better.”

Only the rustling of leaves answered back. But it was enough.

He did not need someone to hold him to those words. He did not need someone to make sure he fulfilled that promise—His consciousness was enough to hold him accountable.

Tobio continued to kneel before the tombstone for several moments, letting the cool temperatures of spring envelope him. It was comforting to be surrounded in silence with only the sounds of nature to interrupt. 

Eventually, he rose to stand, knees cracking as he did so. He gave one last bow to his grandfather before walking out of the temple, his attendant waiting exactly where he had instructed the man to say.

“Would you like a handkerchief, bocchan?” 

A neatly folded, black handkerchief made of organic cotton sateen was handed to him. In its corner, an embroidery of the Kageyama family crest resided: a golden laurel with a crescent moon and stars in the center.

“Thank you,” he replied, accepting the cloth.

It was soft to the touch as he brought it up to dab at his eyes, drying the tears on his face. His nose was a bit stuffy from crying as well, but the thought of carrying around a fabric full of snot disgusted him enough that he refrained from blowing his nose. 

“Katsumi-sama has requested your presence at home,” Aki-san informed him as the man opened the door to the passenger seat. 

He paused. “Obaa-sama did?” he questioned. Although it was not unusual for his grandmother to order him home, she was supposed to be in another country at the moment. “For what?”

“Her orders were to simply drive you home,” was the answer he received.

Immediately, Tobio scowled.

If his grandmother did not care to divulge more information, it only meant that it would be a situation regarding one of the branch families. How absolutely loathsome.

“Fine,” he hissed, sitting onto the passenger seat. “I’ll deal with those greedy assholes as she wants.”

“Please watch your language, bocchan,” Aki-san chided him as he buckled into the driver seat. “Someone of your status should not be speaking such vulgar words.”

“Is there any other word to describe them?” he retorted.

The attendant did not reply. Tobio crinkled his eyes at the silent admission that—no, there were no other words to describe them. At least, none that captured the extent of their terrible personalities and disgusting greed.

He glowered at the thought of having to deal with them. It was suffocating how fake their smiles were and exhausting trying to decode their words. Their false compliments and artificial laughter were grating on his ears, and their groveling was infuriating. Everything about them was abhorrent.

So caught up in his brooding, he failed to notice two pairs of eyes staring at him as the car started.

* * *

**MARCH 27, 2012___3:29 PM___SHIRATORIZAWA ACADEMY___SENDAI, MIYAGI**

Impatience thrummed through his blood, his breaths coming in short, uneven pants. He strained with the need to keep going. Keep running.

His legs screamed and his lungs burned, but there was something so freeing in the act that he refrained from stopping. While running, he could forget everything else. He only needed to focus on placing one foot forward. 

His teammates were nowhere to be seen, having fallen behind a while ago. Wakatoshi enjoyed the silence and comfort it brought along. He enjoyed the lightness it brought to his heart, not needing to worry about judging eyes.

It was a strange paradox—How gasping for breath made it so much easier to breathe. 

Eventually, though, he had to return to the grounds of Shiratorizawa Academy, the euphoria of the run fading quickly as he was met with the sight of Washijou-san waiting for him. Immediately slowing to a stop, he gave a small nod to the short man in greeting.

“You’re late, Wakatoshi,” the old coach chided. “Everyone has already begun their drills.”

“I apologize,” he said instantly, monotone. “I lost track of time.”

Washijou-san, with his stern expression, did not hesitate to narrow his eyes in suspicion. He wondered why the old man, who was barely 170 cm in height and of frail build, could impose such an intimidating presence. 

His grandmother was much the same, but Wakatoshi did not fear her as he feared his head coach. There was a harshness to the elderly man that unnerved him—Even if he did not physically show it.

“Alright,” Washijou-san said eventually, “but you’ll be doing one hundred extra serves today before leaving practice.”

He nodded his understanding, stalking into the gym and immediately joining Satori in line for spiking drills. His soulmate greeted him with a beaming smile.

“It’s nice of you to join us, Wakatoshi,” the middle blocker yelled. “Did you get lost again?”

“No,” he stated. “I lost track of time.”

His soulmate hummed but said nothing, red eyes scanning his expression for anything out of the ordinary. Satori had become quite proficient in reading his moods in the two, nearly three, years they have known each other and almost always knew when something was on his mind.

“Later,” he told the red-head, who agreed easily with a nod.

By the time their practice finished and both of them returned to their dormitories, he could already tell that his soulmate’s patience had worn thin. An apprehensive expression had carved itself onto Satori’s features and the middle blocker was glancing his way every other second.

Wakatoshi knew that the only reason he had yet to ask was that they were in public. So the moment the door closed behind them, Satori immediately blurted, “What’s wrong?”

He waited a few moments before answering, using the time to take off his jacket and grab a bottle of water. The liquid was cold as it traveled down his throat, the sensation calming him as he explained, “I have to return home in two weeks. My mother called and informed me this morning.”

His soulmate understood from that alone, wrapping long arms around his waist from behind in an attempt to comfort him. 

He only grunted in response, the words getting caught in his throat and suffocating him.

His home was unbearable with its cold silence and oppressive stares. Distinguished guests, from businessmen to government officials to members of noble lineage, were constantly revolving through their doors and he was always expected to entertain them.

Most of the people coming and going from his house reeked of arrogance, conversations always consisted of backhanded compliments and hidden insults. As the eldest and only child of his household, he was often subjected to this and would have to maintain civility despite it. 

A single mistake in his etiquette or words and the backlash would come back tenfold against his family. Rumors would sprout and circulate around the entirety of high society, and their name would be dragged through the mud.

It was abhorrent.

“Do you have a choice?” his soulmate asked. “Can you choose not to go?”

“No. Apparently, we will be hosting a party where many old friends of my grandmother are guests. I have to attend.”

“Should I come with you?” Satori offered, still embracing him from behind.

“No,” he declined immediately, the very thought had his heart panicking. And then, realizing he had been too harsh, “It’s not—I don’t—It’s not a good idea...You will not be welcomed.”

Considering how classist those people were, having Satori, who was born to a regular family, will only cause him grief. He wanted to prevent that and protect his soulmate from their judgment. 

“...Alright,” Satori said. “I understand.”

He was glad that the middle blocker could not see him at the moment. He did not know what kind of distorted expression he was making, but Wakatoshi was certain it was a pained one.

╔═══════ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ═══════╗

_i want to live a simple life without stress or worry. i don’t need a lot of stuff. i just want to be happy._

  
╚═══════ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ═══════╝

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote by: Siva Parri
> 
> Aki (秋) - autumn  
> Shishigami (獅子神) - lion (獅子 - shishi) and god (神 - kami/gami)
> 
> Katsumi (勝美) - victorious beauty
> 
> bocchan - this term translates to young master, but it does not connotate the same respect as "young master" does. It is usually not used for boys as old as 13 and it a lot more familiar than "young master" is. Normally, it would not be appropriate for a servant to refer to Tobio as that, but Aki-san is the exception since he has raise Tobio from childhood until now.
> 
> ojii-san - a polite term for grandfather.
> 
> obaa-sama - an overly respectful and formal term for grandmother. It shows that distant relationship Tobio has with his grandmother.
> 
> [Here](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/195695546284949567/) is the picture of the Kageyama family crest. I used numbers 43 and 49 so that it means "plentiful glory."
> 
> 1 - this story was orginally going to be a rewrite of my other one (I Don't Want Your Heart), so there are some aspects that will overlap. I promise, though, that it will be a completely different story (you can probably already tell from the tags).
> 
> 2 - this will have very slow updates as I am currently prioritizing my other story. A chapter will probably be posted between a span of 1-2 weeks.
> 
> 3 - I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Please leave any comments and criticisms; they are always appreciated.


	5. EPISODE 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All of it was to ensure that he would not embarrass the legacy of their family. Any hint of weakness was unacceptable—By the young age of five, he had already become accustomed to concealing his emotion and thoughts behind an impenetrable mask of indifference and calm.

**APRIL 8, 2012___8:34 PM___KAGEYAMA MAIN HOUSE___SENDAI, MIYAGI**

Katsumi Kageyama, having been born into power and status and wealth, was a strict woman by nature and an even stricter grandmother. She made certain that her grandson grew up with the knowledge and skills needed and expected of a house as great as theirs.

In his childhood, he was taught every aspect of business and negotiation. He was taught how to read a person’s body language and how to discern hidden intentions. He was taught that words often had underlying meanings and that people rarely spoke what they meant.

Etiquette lessons were a daily occurrence, and he had been forced to attend every session. The firmness of his handshakes, the volume of his voice, the proper posture for sitting, the correct table manners. He had mastered and made a habit of every one.

All of it was to ensure that he would not embarrass the legacy of their family. Any hint of weakness was unacceptable—By the young age of five, he had already become accustomed to concealing his emotion and thoughts behind an impenetrable mask of indifference and calm.

It was only when his grandmother deemed him the ideal heir was he allowed to do as he wished. 

For the most part, he was granted the freedom to pursue his desires. However, the knowledge that this freedom could be revoked at any given moment was always at the forefront of his mind.

It was why, despite how loathsome he found it was to interact with the majority of the upper class, he obeyed her occasional _requests_ to handle business dealings and networking on her behalf…

Which was what he was currently stuck doing.

“As I’ve said, Maou-san,” Tobio repeated calmly, though his patience was growing increasingly thin as their conversation continued, “I cannot accept a proposal that is so lacking in detail.”

Maou-san only smiled, and at a single glance, the businessman was the embodiment of friendliness and patience. However, he knew better. He saw how the corners of his lips were a bit too sharp and how his fingers were twitching just slightly in irritation.

“Kageyama-kun,” the man drawled, almost like a parent would when their child misbehaved. “I’m sure that if you review it, you will see that there are no problems with my proposal.”

_What a headache_ , he thought.

People like Maou-san were always the most troublesome for him to deal with. They thought too highly of themselves and treated him as though he were a child—which he was, but that was beside the point—that knew nothing of what they were talking about. He had to be particularly cautious when speaking with them, lest he damaged their unfounded pride.

“I assure you that I have reviewed it multiple times,” he answered.

Both of them had been discussing the matter of his proposal for nearly twenty minutes now. He had spent the time explaining to the businessman why he could not accept it, informing him about the inconsistencies and vagueness, but the man refused to concede. 

And he knew exactly why:

Maou-san, upon being notified that it would be Tobio he would be discussing this with and not his grandmother, had let his guard down because he thought it would be a simple matter to convince a fifteen-year-old. He drew up a hasty plan, believing he did not need to come prepared. Once he realized that he made a mistake, however, his ego did not allow him to admit he had underestimated a child.

“Then I’m sure you simply did not understand what you were reading,” the man replied, still smiling despite the condescending.

_He’s finally lost his patience_ , he mused.

An argument is lost the moment a person loses their temper. For such a self-confident businessman, he would have thought Maou-san understood that at the very least. However, it appeared as though he regarded the man too highly.

“I understood the content quite well,” was his response. Calm. Emotionless. Just as he was taught.

He saw the man’s hands curl into a tight fist even as a strained smile remained on his lips. “Is there any other person in this house I could speak with?” Maou-san asked. 

“No.” A twitch in the eye from the businessman tempted him to smile—He did not, but only because it would cause the man to lose his temper entirely.

“Where is your grandmother?” the words were clipped, said through gritted teeth.

“England.” 

Tobio would admit that, at this point, he was intentionally provoking the man with his short answers. It had been a while since someone has so blatantly disregarded him like this, and there was something sickeningly pleasurable about infuriating a grown adult.

“Is there any other adult I could speak with?” Maou-san tried, an angry flush present on his cheeks.

“None.” He was the only one who lived in the house beside their servants, most of whom were not even authorized to speak with guests much less negotiate dealings with them.

Maou-san was no longer smiling, lips drawn in a thin line now. His breathing was becoming more unsteady by the minute, a sign that he was trying to keep his composure, and there was tension along his neck that indicated a clenched jaw.

“I believe it’s time for you to leave Maou-san,” he stated. Tobio wanted him gone before something drastic happened—he doubted the man would resort to violence, but it was always better to be cautious.

“I believe it is,” the businessman gritted out, grabbing his papers and standing up. 

He did not even wait for Tobio to escort him to the door, storming out of the room and off the property without a word of farewell.

“Aki-san,” he called once he was certain the businessman was no longer on the premises of his house.

The attendant, who had been standing behind the shoji, immediately slid the panel aside. Without even looking, he knew Aki-san was seated in a seiza position. “Yes, bocchan?”

“Have someone monitor the rumor mill in business circles the next few weeks or so,” he ordered.

It was common practice for businessmen to damage another’s reputation through lies and deceits. A simple whisper between two people could become the talk of society within an hour. He had seen too many people fall to ruin in the blink of an eye because they could not control the spread.

Tobio did not doubt Maou-san to be the type of person who would resort to such underhanded tactics. His short meeting with the man revealed just how condescending he could be with those he viewed as inferior to him. A man such as that would not hesitate to destroy anyone who damaged his pride—regardless of how worthless it was. 

“Do not hesitate to reveal details about this meeting or the proposal if it appears as though Maou-san is trying to spread false information,” he instructed.

“I understand,” Aki-san confirmed, leaving immediately to relay the order to the people in charge of public relations.

He let out a sigh once he was alone. Maou-san was one of many tiring meetings today, each one more draining than the last. Having to maintain the facade of a perfect heir on top of that made it even more exhausting. Complaining, however, was not an option, so he had no choice but to endure.

Sighing again, he allowed himself to lay down on the tatami floors, his head on the engawa. 

Perhaps it was the reminder of how ancient and everlasting the celestial bodies were—that there were bigger things at play in life—but observing the moon, the stars, the night sky always calmed his anxieties and worries. Even now, he could already feel the tensions of the day fading away.

He reached a hand upwards, as though he could grasp the moon in his palms, and stared at the red strings wrapped around the pinky finger of his left hand. Both of them extended far and out of sight, loose against his finger—a constant, taunting presence that mocked him for what he could never have.

After several moments of simply staring, he eventually forced himself to stand. School began tomorrow, but he paid no mind to knowledge at the moment. He was too tired and he felt too dirty.

A bath was in order. And after that, the sweet embrace of sleep awaited him.

* * *

**APRIL 13, 2012___3:22 PM___AOBA JOHSAI HIGH___MIYAGI**

Akira had always been apathetic by nature. His perspective of the world was akin to the mindset of someone looking through a window. A mild curiosity, but general disinterest for the most part.

And that also meant he was not a very emotion-motivated person. He cared little for action fueled by emotion—disdained it, in fact—and would rather choose what to do based on logic and reasoning. On one hand, he could count the number of times he reacted on impulse.

Even with Yuutarou, who was one of the most empathetic people he had ever met, Akira remained indifferent. Not that he did not care for his soulmate—quite the opposite. He simply could not find the same passion his soulmate possessed, which was more often than not the source of challenges in their relationship.

However, there was always one subject with which they always agreed upon: Tobio Kageyama, the third person in their polybond. A person who, regardless of the... _situation_ in junior high, they still cared about to a certain degree.

A person who had disappeared amid their third year.

“Aren’t you too calm about this?” Yuutarou asked him, distress evident in his shaky voice. And he was a bit impressed that the wing spiker managed to wait until they were walking home to ask. “Aren’t you worried about him?”

“Of course I’m worried,” Akira stated. “But there’s no point in panicking.”

He could think of a million reasons why Tobio Kageyama was not among the incoming freshmen applying for a place on Aoba Johsai’s volleyball team. Jumping to conclusions would serve no purpose other than sending them into paranoia.

“He could be going to another school,” he continued, pointing out a very logical possibility. 

“I know, but…” his soulmate trailed off, brows furrowing and lips curving into a frown. 

Akira sighed, already knowing that the other boy was overthinking again. It had been happening a lot ever since they heard Tobio had dropped out of school and he has had to calm Yuutarou down on more than one occasion.

“Do you think something’s happened to him?”

“Maybe. But it’s not like he’s dead,” Akira said.

Death was represented by a black string, and the two strings attached to his left pinky finger were still very much red. 

“That doesn’t mean something hasn’t happened to him,” Yuutarou told him. “He could be on the verge of death and we wouldn’t even know.”

“You’re overreacting.” Or at least, Akira hoped he was overreacting. Because that might very well be the case, and the two of them were completely ignorant of it.

“Do you think...Do you think we could have done something more?” his soulmate asked, appearing rather dejected at the words.

And there it was. He knew it had been coming for a while now—Yuutarou’s self-blame. Whether it was for the better or worse, the wing spiker was always sensitive about his word and actions towards other people. As a result, it made him intensely guilty whenever there was a possibility that he reacted in the wrong manner and spent days contemplating if there was a better way he could have gone about the situation.

In his opinion, that mindset was rather pointless. It was impossible to change the past, so there was reason to wonder about could-have-beens and what-ifs. 

“Even if we had done something differently, the problem laid with him. Not us,” Akira said, colder than he had intended.

Junior high was a bitter memory for them. Although their first year had been fine—the three of them had gotten along well and had fun, even—it all changed in the middle of the second year. Or more accurately, Tobio changed.

He had always been quiet, but he became even more so. Sometimes, he went an entire day without speaking to either of them. And whenever he did speak, it had been short, clipped sentences with a harsh tone. He became more demanding, as well. He barked orders like a tyrant and expected them to do the impossible.

Both of them had tried—they really did—to talk to him. Akira and Yuutarou asked, over and over, why he changed so suddenly. 

Everyone had a breaking point, though. They had reached theirs during that last match in junior high.

It had been cruel, he knew, using the sport Tobio loved as a weapon against him. But even faced with the devastation of his soulmate’s expression, he did not regret it. The setter would not listen to them, no matter how loud they screamed. 

It had been the only way to make him see reason.

Akira did regret, however, ignoring the text Tobio had sent them, a week after. A simple, _Can I see you two,_ that both of them had read but not replied to. 

But who was he to know that the blue-eyed boy would drop out of school barely two weeks after? 

Who was he to know that Tobio would disappear altogether? 

“I’m sure he’ll turn up eventually,” he reassured Yuutarou. At least, Akira hoped he would. 

If they wanted to, either of them could follow the red string on their fingers and it would lead right to him. However, neither of them were inclined to do so.

Even if they cared about Tobio to a certain degree, it was not enough for them to seek the raven-haired boy out on their own accord. It was not enough to forgive the hurt that still lingered—still pricked at their heart.

And he had no right to their forgiveness either.

Tobio was the one who rejected them in their second year, after all. 

╔═══════ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ═══════╗

_every truth has two sides; it is as well to look at both, before we commit ourselves to either._

  
╚═══════ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ═══════╝

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote by: Aesop
> 
> Maou (真奥) - a pun on words. It sounds like Mao (魔王), which means devil or demon lord.
> 
> [shoji](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/23503229286820433/) \- wooden sliding doors with translucent paper on it.
> 
> [seiza](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/136515432444558119/) \- the standard, formal, traditional way of sitting in Japan.
> 
> [tatami](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/13933080087140007/) \- a type of mat used as flooring material in traditional Japanese-styled homes.
> 
> [engawa](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/21532904458533853/) \- an edging strip of non-tatami-matted flooring, usually wood or bamboo.
> 
> Did I manage to take you by surprise? 
> 
> The reason for Tobio rejecting them will be explained later in the story, but I hope that it was a good twist.
> 
> I haven't included Kentarou in the story yet, but he'll be introduced after Karasuno's practice match with Seijoh.
> 
> It's been a little over two weeks since I've updated, so I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I had a hard time with the diction, so it took me longer than I would have liked. However, I am very satisfied with how it turned out.


End file.
